


Seventh Time Lucky

by Muscarie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hufflepuff Pride
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2019-10-20 16:20:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17625674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muscarie/pseuds/Muscarie
Summary: It is said that when Felix Felicis wears off, you have to go through a significant amount of bad luck as the universe balances the odds again. After a particularly uncanny flash of bravery, an anonymous Hufflepuff is inclined to believe it is true. One person's misfortune is another person's victory, isn't it?Set in seventh year Horgwarts, a story in which a group of Hufflepuffs' efforts at impressing the DA whilst getting back at the Slytherins has disastrous consequences.





	1. The Fickle Nature of Luck

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in seventh year, whilst the Golden Trio are away chasing Horcruxes. It follows the students left in Hogwarts, including Ginny and Neville etc.
> 
> There is an OC (because not having Harry, Hermione or Ron there wasn't enough of a risk), but please don't worry.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter etc, and the OC is made up but her last name, Kettleburn, is not, it is from the universe of Harry Potter and I am picturing her as related to Silvanus Kettleburn, who used to be professor of Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts (he is a real character). She herself is not in Harry Potter originally, and neither is the grandma I mention.
> 
> Please let me know if you enjoy the story, and if you don't, then don't say anything (my poor heart would not take it!).

"Well," says Amycus Carrow, leering at them from over his greenish, sweaty, wobbly cheeks. "Enough Fiendfyre for today."

The class cringes. There are fifteen minutes yet left to the lesson, which can only mean one thing.

"I've brought you a little treat. You're going to practise the Cruciatus Curse... On little Denny here."

A tiny second year student is beckoned over to the front of the seventh year classroom, where he stands shaking like a lead and looking like he's about to burst into tears.  
Emma Kettleburn and the rest of her Hufflepuff table look down at their parchments, pretending to be scribbling a last few notes on Fiendfyre, praying not to get picked.  
On a Friday, Dark Arts succeed to Muggle Studies, and that is just about what they can endure before collapsing into the weekend. One Carrow sibling is bad enough, but one after the other? You need a good two days of hiding in your common room to recover.

Emma does not want to get picked. She's already had to endure Alecto Carrow, the professor of Muggle Studies, talking about the sexual bestiality of Muggle men and singling her out as a half blood witch, trying to get her to give anecdotes of times when she'd witnessed Muggle men being pigs. Not getting anywhere with her interrogation, the toad like Death Eater had forcefully extracted a memory from Emma's summer, when some idiots had whistled at her and her sisters on the street and they'd flipped them the fingers in return. It was a one time, isolated incident, but it'd clearly been enough to prove professor Carrow's point. To top it up nicely, Emma now has a raging headache from the forceful extraction.

Emma's father is a Squib, and her mother a muggle. She is the second of four sisters, and the only magical one. Her father, despite his having no magical talent himself, comes from an eminent wizarding family. Emma assumes this is why she has been allowed to return to Hogwarts - she must somehow fall under "half blood" rather than "muggle born" on the Ministry's charts... That or old Bathsheba Kettleburn pulled some strings. Apparently, Emma's paternal grandmother is kind of a big deal amongst pure blood families... And there'd been a Hogwarts professor, at some point. If only poor Justin had been so lucky.

Emma's eyes wander over to where their friend Justin Finch-Fletchley would be sitting, had he not had the misfortune of being muggle born and therefore forbidden from attending his final year. Is he on the run? Is he alive? Is he being his hilarious, posh self somewhere abroad? Oh, she can just picture him- 

"Someone from the HuffyPuffy table, Miss Kettleburn, maybe?"

Emma freezes, as dread creeps up her spine. Amycus Carrow is right there in front of her. She can almost hear the dried up foam of spit quivering at the corners of his mouth with each breath he draws.

"Er..."

"Can I have a go, professor? " Someone from the Slytherin table pipes up. She's pretty sure it's Nott. 

"That's good effort, Theodore, but you had a go last week, and none of this lot have tried yet. Four weeks into their seventh year, and I'm not sensing a great deal of enthusiasm from the badgers. "

Emma winces. Oh please, if the Slytherin weirdos wants to do it, let them...

"At least they're taking notes," says someone in a strong, confident voice. "I've not even bothered with that."

Emma holds back a chuckle at Neville Longbottom 's obvious provocation. Susan Bones snorts. 

"Longbottom," seethes professor Carrow. " You-"

"I mean, I did write the date, then for lesson title I put 'same as last week', then I think I've been trying to draw something... " Neville pretends to flick through his pieces of parchment. "What do you think, Parvati, is that supposed to be like a toad, or a ... ?"

All eyes turn to the Gryffindor table, amused by Neville's antics. The Carrow siblings are so dense they still haven't figured out that Neville always picks up arguments with them when they practise the Unforgivables, to waste lesson time. It works.

Emma, Susan and Ernie are in awe of the Gryffindor. He's so, so brave. Their friend Hannah Abbott, currently retaking her sixth year, will be delighted to hear about this.

Professor Carrow stomps his way over to the Gryffindor table and takes a look at Neville's parchment. 

"Incendio!" 

The parchment goes up in flames, and Carrow returns to the front of the class, flustered.

"I'll do it myself," he barks, after taking a look at the clock. "Watch." Seven minutes to go.

Carrow raises his wand, and the whole class holds their breath as little Denny begins crying. The Death Eater is about to cast his spell when, just to his left, a piece of parchment lifts off his desk and begins a shaky, awkward journey towards the Gryffindor table, rubbing on the professor's face on the way. 

"Oops, sorry, professor," says Neville , wand drawn, tongue out and one eye shut in mock concentration. The class chuckles nervously.

"Longbottom! What are you -!?"

"You burned my parchment, professor. I'm just getting a new one..."

Carrow shoots a ball of Fiendfyre at the parchment, and Neville laments, loud enough for all to hear: "oh, now I've got to start again..."

Another piece of parchment flies off the desk and this time reaches Neville at record speed.

"Got it!" 

" Shut up!! "

"Sorry, professor. Continue."

"Damn Longbottom... Where were we..."

" Damn Longbottom... " whispers Neville, far too audibly, as his quill noisily scratches across his fresh piece of parchment. "Where were we..."

The class laughs.

"Denny, out!!" Shouts professor Carrow. "And YOU, Longbottom!!"

"Gotta go! "

Neville bolts out the door as the clock strikes three, signalling the end of the lesson and the start of the weekend.

All students, even the Slytherins, gather their things and leave the room as fast as they can. Rough and rougher duo Grabbe and Goyle join in, lured away from the sweet prospect of torturing a child by the even sweeter prospect of patrolling corridors over the weekend. All the arseholes have been made prefects, this year.

"Ladies," says Ernie in his usual, slightly pompous manner, as he catches up to Emma and Hannah, who has emerged from a Transfiguration classroom. Susan is chatting happily with Parvati Patil, just ahead of them. "Looking forward to the game tomorrow,are we not? Slytherin versus Gryffindor... Should be a great game. Heard Ginny Weasley is going to play seeker, now Potter's away. "

"Cool!" Hannah's eyes are full of stars. "She's so cool..."

"I'm probably going to give it a miss," says Emma, quietly, because Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini from Slytherin are walking rather close to them. "It'll probably be rigged, so Slytherin wins..."

"You're not that into Quidditch anyway, though, are you, Emma?" Asks Hannah.

"I am! Well... I mean, I always go when Hufflepuff are playing..."

"I just go and support whoever is not Slytherin," says Susan from above her own shoulder.

"I just feel like hiding in the common room after this week..."

" Yeah, she always picks on you, doesn't she, the she-Carrow."

"They're just vile."

" Who? " asks Zacharias Smith, appearing from a side corridor.

"The Carrows," replies Emma in as low a voice as possible, because they've all reached the Hall now and Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students have left for their towers, leaving Slytherin and Hufflepuff to make their way towards kitchens and dungeons, respectively. Nott and Zabini are still a bit too close for comfort.

"Oh yeah," agrees Zacharias, "They're the stuff of nightmares. Do you know what, I reckon they're like...together."

"Ew!!" Squeals Hannah.

"Thanks for the image, old boy," says Ernie.

"I reckon they might find each other's repulsiveness attractive."

"His spit foam..." Lists Emma . " Her sweat moustache... "

Someone snorts from behind them, and the Hufflepuffs turn to see Nott looking away, and Zabini glaring at them. Without a word, the Slytherins storm past them and down the steps to their dungeons.

"These two are the worst," says Ernie. "Though Grabbe and Goyle are pretty awful. "

"He volunteered," shivers Emma, watching the space where the tall, sharp figure of Theodore Nott stood just moments before. "He always volunteers to torture the kids."

This, however, reminds Emma to tell Hannah of what Neville Longbottom did during the class, and no other topic gets discussed until well after dinner.

"He is so brave," Hannah repeats for the umpteenth time, later that evening as the three girls are sitting on their beds in their dormitory. There used to be a fourth girl, Jane Jones, but she is a muggle born, and she hasn't returned after the summer holidays. "He just stands up to them, just like that!" Hannah is fiddling with a gold coin. " I wonder when there will be another DA meeting... "

"Missing Neville already?" teases Emma.

"There's not going to be any meetings, surely," says Susan. "Not with everything that's happening. Harry's not there, neither are Ron and Hermione, and I mean with all the Death Eaters and the Slytherins and Snape...it'd be suicide, don't you think? "

Emma agrees with Susan, even though she's got to admit that she, too, misses Dumbledore's Army.

"Neville might pick it up?" She suggests, not wanting to crush Hannah's good mood.

"He might," Susan buts in, "but he's no Harry Potter. "

"Still, it's inspiring, don't you think? I wish I were that brave." Hannah looks up at the ceiling, voicing her thoughts aloud . "I wish there was some way to get back at them, somehow. Like, something that would piss them off, benefit us... Something that would make us feel like we're winning, for once. "

"I'd love to get my magazines back," says Susan . "You know, the ones that Pansy Parkinson confiscated on the train?"

"That's it!" shrieks Hannah, her blond hair flying as she whips her head round to face Susan.

"We could get our stuff back! Steal it back from them!"

"We can't just walk into the Slytherin dungeons and just casually get my magazines back...anyway, Pansy would know straight away that it was me. "

"We could get everyone's stuff back! Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor...All the stuff confiscated by Slytherin! They wouldn't know who to accuse! That would help the DA-"

" Alright, well, that still doesn't change the fact that we can't just walk in -"

" Slytherin are playing tomorrow, though, their common room will be empty -"

"We don't know that, and getting caught trying to figure out the stupid password-"

Emma watches her two friends bicker, amused. Hannah is tall and blond, with a long face, and Susan is short, red headed and round faced. One is talkative and easily excited, the other is stern and sensible.

"We'd need luck," says Emma , thinking of her own muggle pens, taken away from her on day 2. She hates quills. "Have we still got that empty bottle of Felix Felicis Jane picked up last year?" 

They find the bottle in Jane's otherwise deserted bedside table. It is the bottle Harry Potter won the year before, and it's been finished then discarded by members of the DA at the end of the summer term. Jane found it on the floor. The girls reckon you can still get a good drop out of it. Not enough for three, but maybe for one, for a short amount of time...40 minutes, perhaps...

In an uncharacteristic bout of bravery, Emma volunteers.

*

The next day, Susan and Hannah join the rest of Hogwarts as they head for the Quidditch pitch, leaving Emma behind. 

The young witch gets about two drops out of the empty bottle, sticking her little finger inside to collect every little bit of liquid gold. Nothing seems to happen at first, and she's about to call it a day when her mind and heart fill with a sense of calm, content, and confidence, and the world seems bright and endless. Getting inside the Slytherin dungeons and retrieving all the DA's confiscated items? Easy peasy. Probably didn't even need luck potion for that. In fact, she's just going to head down there right now. She'll just knock on the door, that seems like the right thing to do.

Emma picks up her bag and makes her way to the entrance of the Slytherin common room, encountering nobody at all. Pleased with herself, and with the world in general, she confidently knocks on the wall where she knows the door is concealed. When nothing happens, Emma assumes that no one is in, and she tries the door knob that kindly appears for her. The door materialises from the stone then opens, from the inside, and Theodore Nott stands in front of her, peering down down at her with a surprised look on his face.

Emma calmly details his appearance. He's tall, with high and sharp cheekbones and a pointy chin. He's got dark brown eyes and hair, sleeked back on his head. He's got thin lips, and she's never really seen him smile.

"Hi," she greets him, like it's completely normal for her to be there.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm Emma."

"I know, what are you doing here?"

"I was..." She looks around, searching for an excuse, but the luck potion tells her to just be honest with the pure blooded Slytherin. "To be honest, I was trying to get in, because I wanted to get my pen back."

" What?" he blinks.

"My pen. My fountain pen, it's kind of like a quill but way more practical. Vincent Grabbe confiscated it from me, and I'm pretty sure it's in here." 

He blinks again, his eyes sweeping over her face, probably trying to work out whether she is pulling his leg or just plain crazy.

"So you just...came here."

" Yep. "

"You knocked on the door, and tried to open it."

" I did, yes. "

"You need a password to enter," he informs her, with something of a smile now forming at the corner of his lips.

" Ah...so...what's the password, then? " Felix Felicis makes Emma give Theodore Nott a wide, dazzling smile, and wriggle her eyebrows at him. "Is it... 'please' ?"

Now smiling openly, Nott rubs his face with a long, pale hand and leans over to check that there's no one around. Having confirmed the absence of witnesses, he seems to falter, weighing his options. Eventually, he steps back, opening the door a little wider and gesturing for her to come in.

Emma smiles even brighter, entering this serpent's lair with no fear at all. The room is dark, decorated with stone and wood carvings, lit by green lanterns, and its tall windows give onto what appears to be the bottom of the Lake.

"There's no one here," says Nott. "They're all at the game."

"Is that a mermaid?" 

Emma excitedly rushes to try and catch another glimpse of the magical creature which just swam past the windows.

"Yes. We see the Giant Squid, sometimes."

"Really? That's so cool. We just see the odd rabbit... My friend Hannah once said a unicorn came close to the windows."

Nott walks towards a great wardrobe, opening it to reveal shelves covered with a wide variety of objects, all confiscated by Slytherin prefects since the beginning of the year.

Standing beside him, Emma recognises her pen, still there. She picks it up, checking it over.

"So that's your...pen?"

"It is. My mum got it for me for my seventeenth birthday."

"You know you're not allowed this in school, don't you?"

"It's a fountain pen," she explains, and his brows furrow in confusion. "It writes like a quill, the teachers can't tell the difference."

After a quick internal debate, Felix Felicis wins and Emma decides to push her luck. She puts a hand on the wardrobe doors just as Nott is about to shut them, and peers inside with feigned curiosity.

"Wow, there's a lot of stuff in there isn't there... That's my friend Susan's magazines, can I take those too? For her? Oh and here's Parvati Patil's sneakcoscope... And Ginny Weasley's Pygmy Puff, now, that's a living creature, you can't just leave it in a cupboard to die..." She's stuffing her bag as she speaks.

"Pansy's been feeding it...what are you doing?"

Shouldering her bag, now full of all the objects and treasures that were previously in the wardrobe, Emma looks back at him with wide eyes.

"Just... Taking the lot?" She begins scurrying away.

"Taking- wait, no, they'll notice- wait!"

He catches up to her as she's about to reach the door to the common room.

"You can't just take everything."

And then Felix makes Emma do something completely insane, completely unnatural, completely out of character, and yet devastatingly effective... She stands on her tiptoes and places one hand on his hollow cheek as well as a five second long kiss just at the corner of his mouth. As she falls back on her heels, Emma sees that Nott is completely stunned, staring at her with a somewhat fearful and awed expression.

"Tell them you were at the library," she suggests. "We can say we were there together?"

"They won't- they-"

"I owe you. You can trust me, I'm a Hufflepuff. I'm loyal. Thank you, Theo."

And with that, Emma leaves the Slytherin common room. She feels like she's winning.  
It is said that when Felix Felicis wears off, you have to go through a significant amount of bad luck as the universe balances the odds again. Emma is about to find this out the hard way.


	2. Balancing the Odds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the one (1) person reading ;) seriously though Lilo thank you so much for your comment I'm really touched you're willing to give this a go!!

Emma's bad luck catches up to her on the Sunday morning, when she gets escorted out of breakfast by none other than Alecto Carrow. 

Their corner of the Hufflepuff table is positively buzzing as they discuss the sheer joy of having somehow pulled off what feels like the heist of the century. They keep glancing at the Slytherin table, trying to determine whether they've realised yet. Emma catches the eye of Theodore Nott, once, but he looks away without giving any sign that something happened the day before.

"But he just let you walk away?" Asks Susan again, ever the voice of wisdom. "He just showed you the stuff, and let you walk away?"

"Yes! That luck potion must have been really potent, I mean there wasn't a lot of it but maybe it goes stronger with age..."

"Maybe he fancies you," says Ernie. "Imagine," he shivers, "being fancied by that weirdo."

Him and Hannah both chuckle, but Susan and Zacharias look more concerned than amused.

"It's not funny," Susan chastisises. "His dad is a Death Eater, and Slytherins never do things for free."

"Oh we need to let Ginny and Neville know," says Hannah, oblivious. "They'll be so impressed!"

"We need to hide the stuff is what we need to do-"

"Kettleburn."

Something heavy and warm falls on Emma's shoulder, interrupting Susan. Emma turns to see Alecto Carrow's hand on her.

"Follow me."

"Me?"

"You."

"W-where?"

"To the Headteacher's office."

Slowly, as if hoping that she will wake up any second and realise none of this has happened, Emma stands up. Her eyes briefly meet her friends's, praying that they will somehow manage to hide everything safely before the Carrows inevitably request to search her dorm.

Following Alecto, Emma notices that quite a few students are watching, including Ginny and Neville. So much for impressing them... She throws one quick look over her shoulder and locks eyes for the briefest moment with Theodore Nott, over at the Slytherin table. His face is unreadable. Did he tell on her? And why wouldn't he? What the hell was she thinking, just walking in, and giving him a peck on the cheek like some pre-teen tease? She's never taking that shitting potion again!

They go up the many stairs towards where used to be Professor Dumbledore's office, and Emma starts getting seriously worried. They'll give her a detention, at least, and she'll get tortured by Amycus Carrow... or maybe they'll have the whole class torture her. She might get expelled. Or what if they decide that actually, she's muggle born, not half blood? Azkaban! She'll go to Azkaban for a bleeding pen!!

Just calm down, says a voice in her head, sounding remarkably like Susan's. This might be about something completely different, don't say anything until you know what it's about.

He probably told on me.

Deny it.

It's his word against mine, and he's pure blood...

Just play dumb.

I feel bloody dumb.

"Snape," says Alecto, as the two of them enter the Headteacher's office. "Here she is, the little thief."

Ah. So much for let's wait and see what it's about...! Can I panic, now?

Professor Snape looks up from the pile of parchments on his desk, and his cool, black eyes meet hers. Emma hastily looks down. Amycus Carrow is sitting in an armchair opposite the great desk. He, too, is staring at her.

"Where are they?" He blurts out, like he cannot control himself. Bits of spit come out his mouth and land on the stone floor, by Emma's feet. "Where did you put all the-"

"Silence, Amycus," says the headteacher. 

Emma is terrified of him. This is the man who killed Albus Dumbledore. He might as well have murdered Merlin himself, to Emma's eyes. Dumbledore had been good. Emma has been in his office, once, as a tearful and quiet first year, brought in by Professor Sprout, and professor Dumbledore had given her a very kind smile and he'd promised her that the Slytherin boys giving her trouble were never going to come her way again.

"Do you know why you're here?" Snape asks her, snapping Emma back to reality.

"No, sir."

Snape narrows his eyes at her, then sighs with what sounds like extreme boredom.

"Bring in the prefects."

To Emma's utter horror, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini walk into the office from a side room.

"You're here," says Snape, as the two Slytherins plant themselves on either side of him and glare at Emma with as much contempt as humanly possible. "Because you are suspected of breaking into the Slytherin common room yesterday afternoon during the quidditch game, and of stealing approximately fourteen confiscated items." He watches her intently. "Well?"

"I-I don't-why am I being suspected?"

"On Friday I heard you say you weren't going to go to the game," says Blaise Zabini. "No one else was in the castle at the time."

"H-how do you know?"

"He said he heard you on Friday, you-"

"No, I mean," Emma cuts across Pansy, "how do you know I was the only one in the castle? And how could I break into the Slytherin common room?" This is her hope, and she clings on. Staring at the headteacher, meeting his stare head on, she declares: "I swear I didn't break into the Slytherin common room."

The Occlumens nods slowly, but Pansy Parkinson is not so easily deterred.

"But you did go in there, though? You did take the stuff?"

"I didn't- I-"

"You weren't in the Slytherin common room?" Under the Occlumens' all knowing eyes, Emma has no choice but to let out some truth.

"I-I was- but I-"

"Snape, why are we wasting time? Let's just get the answer out of her."

Amycus's wand rises, and Emma's heart makes quick leaps in her ribcage, like a rabbit trapped in a net. She winces, as he professor opens his mouth to cast the cruciatus curse...

Knock, knock, knock.

They all nearly jump out of their skin when someone knocks on the door, and Snape shouts back: "enter."

Theo Nott appears at the door, looking somewhat flustered. As flustered as pale, somber aristocrats do, anyway. He walks into the office and takes himself to stand next to Emma, blocking the path for Amycus' wand.

"Theodore," says Snape. "What brings you here?"

"What is she being accused of?"

"That is unfortunately none of your-"

"Is this about the things that went missing yesterday? She didn't take anything." Says the young wizard. "I can guarantee it, I was there."

"She's already admitted to being in the Slytherin common room," says Alecto.

Theo nods, letting nothing show.

"She was, but she was with me the entire time. I let her in. She didn't take anything."

"And what," Snape starts, in a dangerously calm voice, "could you possibly have been thinking, letting a student from another house enter your common room?" 

"That is unfortunately none of your concern, professor, with all due respect. She's my girlfriend."

Despite her best efforts, Emma's eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, a gesture which does not go unnoticed by Snape, who narrows his eyes so much they nearly disappear.

"She's your what?" 

"My girlfriend, Blaise. Surely you've heard of the concept."

"She's not. Since when?"

"Since last year."

"You never said a thing."

"It's none of your concern."

"I don't buy it."

"Are you his girlfriend?" Pansy asks Emma directly.

"Yes." This is...genius! Awful, but genius. "We got together last year, in muggle studies."

Nott had been one of the only Slytherins to take muggle studies before it was made compulsory, afte being forced to do so by professor Mc Gonnagall who'd heard him slurring about muggles a few years before.

"And no one knows. That's just ridiculous."

"I didn't want anyone to know," Emma says, getting carried away with the lie. "I was embarrassed. My friends wouldn't understand that I'd want to be with... With a Slytherin."

Alecto scoffs loudly.

"Silly girl, you would be so fortunate, this is the heir to the house of Nott! A pure blood wizard of impeccable breeding, you are very lucky he so much as threw a look in your direction, you half blood, HuffyPuffy bimbo! Embarrassed indeed...!"

"I just don't believe it," says Pansy. "He'd never go out with a Hufflepuff, anyway."

"He did always fancy her," whispers Blaise Zabini.

"This is a waste of my time," Snape declares. "Mr Nott, you know this kind of activities are forbidden on school grounds. What if a pregnancy were to result from your indiscretions?"

"That's not-we didn't-" Snape silences Emma with one raised hand.

"Professor, she still must have taken our things!" Cries Pansy. "Search her dorm, at least!"

"Alecto, Amycus, handle this."

The next thing she knows, Emma is being escorted all the way back down to the Hufflepuff quarters by no less than five Slytherins.

"Are you serious, Theo?" Whispers Blaise a few times. "Are you actually serious??" 

Feeling humiliated, Emma walks them to the barrels concealing the common room's entrance. Everyone stares at them on the way, probably wondering who she is - she's never been a rebel, nor top of the class. The most notable thing she's ever done was joining the DA back in fifth year, and even then, most people didn't know about her. She wasn't even with the DA the day they got caught by Umbridge - she was in bed with a sore stomach for eating too much chocolate.  
Emma taps the code to the common room, and it opens, letting her and her sinister escort in.  
The few Hufflepuffs gathered there stand in alarm at the sight of the Slytherins, but remain where they are when they notice the teachers. Susan and Hannah aren't there.

"Let's search her dorm," says Pansy, looking around like she's just accidentally walked into a pigsty.

They enter Emma's dorm, also empty, and Amycus Carrow gets carried away once again as he starts emptying the nearest bedside table, not bothering to use magic. Emma holds her breath. Unless Hannah and Susan have moved it all, everything is still inside Jane's drawers.

"Allow me, professor," says Blaise Zabini, eyeing the distasteful display. "Accio confiscated items."

For a moment, nothing happens. Nothing comes out of Jane's abandoned drawers. But then, something starts tapping, making the little table by Emma's bed rattle and shake, until professor Carrow opens the little door and something flies off to land in Blaise Zabini's open palm. Emma's pen.

"Ha!" Shrieks Alecto Carrow.

"That's one of the things." Says Zabini, holding it with disgust. "Some muggle ink stick."

"I gave her that." Everyone turns to stare at Nott. "That's called a fountain pen, and it's special to her. Her mother got it for her, for her birthday. I gave it back to her. She didn't take it."

This declaration is met by a stunned silence, eventually broken by Pansy's nervous chuckle.

"Merlin's tits, Nott, what is she giving you, the mudblood?"

"She's a half blood," snaps Nott, in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. "And don't you speak about my girlfriend like that, or I'll hex you."

Zabini whistles. 

Everything sort of fades from Emma's conscious mind, after that, because all of the Slytherins and the teachers leave, talking about searching Gryffindor dorms next, and Nott just throws her a quick look before disappearing after them. Emma picks up her pen, discarded in the commotion.

In a daze, she sits on her bed. What did she get herself into?

*  
"Neville's just amazing. He just knows how to use that room, you know, the Room of Requirement? After the Carrows took you, we went to him and Ginny and explained what happened, and then Neville just helped us hide all the stuff in that room. It was amazing." 

Hannah gives a dreamy sigh, no doubt reliving the events of the day before.

"Yes, yes, Longbottom is amazing," Susan turns to Emma again, whispering in the semi silence of the library. "But seriously though, what is this mess about? What's Nott doing?"

"I don't know," groans Emma, "he just said that and they believed him and...and I think it saved me from torture, you know?"

"Yeah but why...!"

"I don't know! Maybe he's- maybe he's nice!"

The look Susan gives her at that point reminds Emma of professor McGonagall's death stare whenever Ron Weasley would say something particularly daft. And just like Ron Weasley with professor McGonagall, Emma babbles on to try and save herself.

"Maybe he was worried he'd get in trouble, because I would have said he was in the common room with me, and he pretty much let me go... That must be it! He'd get in trouble for not stopping me!"

Susan nods slowly, much more inclined to believe this version of events.

"Still," she ponders, "that doesn't explain why he'd let you take all that stuff from his common room in the first place. Maybe he does fancy you, Emma. How did Parkinson and Zabini react when he said you two were together?"

"They both said there was no way, but..."

"But?"

"Zabini said that Nott did always fancy me... Something like that."

"That's what I'm worried about," Susan says. "I noticed him looking at you a few times before, since like third year. That's not good, Emma. His dad is Death Eater. Nott tortures kids. If he's into you, that's not something you wanna encourage."

"I'm not!" Barks Emma, remembering with horror how she'd stood on her tiptoes to put a kiss on his hollow cheek.

"Yeah but now she has to pretend to be his girlfriend," interjects Hannah. "Otherwise her defence falls through."

"He probably planned this, for all we know." 

"Or he seized the opportunity," replies Hannah, in an uncanny display of perceptiveness. "If he's been fancying her since third year and never actually worked up the nerve to ask her out, this would be the perfect opportunity to make her be with him. She owes him, now. He is a Slytherin, after all."

"Emma!"

Ernie runs into their corner of the library, looking red and flustered.

"Nott is here," he shout-whispers, "he's looking for you. He went to the common room first and I sent him here, I had to take a secret passageway to beat him... He's here!"

Ernie disappears behind a bookshelf, leaving the three girls to stand there awkwardly, waiting for Theodore Nott to find them, which he does.

Standing there at the end of the aisle, looking sinister and stiff as ever, Theo Nott lets his dark eyes wander over the three of them before zeroing in on Emma.

"Please may I speak with you? Alone?"

When Hannah and Susan have effectively retreated out of earshot, Nott's somewhat stoic countenance slips a little bit. Emma looks everywhere but at him.

"Are you alright?" He asks her, taking her by surprise.

"Of course. I'm fine."

He nods, playing with the large ring on his major. A family heirloom, guesses Emma.

"They think Longbottom and that Weasley girl did it," he murmurs.

"Oh."

"Of course, they can't prove it."

"No." Emma feels her heart beat a wild rhythm. She has to ask. "So... What happens now?"

"Nothing, I suppose, they're stuck..."

"I mean," she flicks her finger in the space between the two of them, "what happens with us?"

"Oh, right," he looks away and down to his ring. "Well, I uh... I do believe we should continue to be together, lest our lie becomes obvious... If they were to know the truth, both of us would be in trouble. You for obvious reasons, and me, for helping you with it."

Why did you? She wants to ask, but cannot quite work up the courage. Her mouth opens then closes, and Nott must have misinterpreted this for an attempt at protesting, because he immediately launches into what sounds like a well rehearsed speech:

"It is in our best interest to keep this up. And, really, it could be beneficial. We have a quite a few subjects in common and could study together for our N.E.W.T.S, not to mention the fact that, in current times, and with your blood status, having a pure blooded friend in Slytherin is not a bad idea. I could put in a word for you with the Carrows, stop them from stealing your memories in muggle studies or having you practise the Unforgivables. I could make sure that other Slytherins stir clear of you. I would not request anything from you that you wouldn't wish to do, we could simply meet regularly and, obviously, not see anyone else, which, as I'm sure you will agree once you think about it, is not a very big price to pay for your safety. I've weighed the pros and the cons, and I do think that this is your best option."

He finishes his tirade and looks back up at her expectantly.

Despite herself, a chuckle bubbles out of Emma's throat, causing his eyebrows to lift up.

"That's the most romantic thing I've ever heard," she jokes.

Taken aback, he opens and closes his mouth a few times.

"And what's in it for you?"

"Well, I..." He adverts his gaze. "My father is having this great dinner for Christmas, and he has made it clear to me that he expects me to bring a girlfriend. I have failed to do so in the past, and he has started to doubt my...preferences. Men in my family are expected to pass on the family name, and he expects me to uphold that tradition. That I have yet to introduce him to a girlfriend has not gone unnoticed amongst our circle of acquaintances, and...well. You get the idea."

Emma frowns. Is he telling her he's gay?

"So you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend so your dad leaves you alone? Wouldn't he rather you dated someone like Pansy Parkinson?"

"I suppose he would, yes, but given the circumstances I was hoping that you'd..." he trails off.

"Right." Says Emma. "I suppose that's the least I can do, considering how you've helped me. I just hope I do ok. Thank you, you know...for helping me."

He nods curtly, then takes a few steps back. He looks back at her, looking like he's wondering whether to seal this with some form of physical contact (a kiss?), so Emma extends her hand to him.

"Deal."

He takes her hand in his and holds it for the briefest of moments before stalking off.  
Emma's hand prickles as if stung by nettles.

Did she just agree to become Theo Nott's beard?


	3. The DA ban

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we find out what happens when a badger feels cornered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :)
> 
> Bit of a trigger warning: in this story, the propaganda used by Voldemort's followers depicts muggle men as murderers and child abusers, and the muggle working class is particularly targeted. It is meant to be offensive to the main character, and is in no way depicting real people. It's all meant to sound like deliberately offensive lies.

She's not sure why, but Emma doesn't divulge her suspicions regarding Nott's sexual orientation. Perhaps because if said suspicions were founded, it would not be up to her to tell people about it. She's no doubt that a lot of people would love to know that kind of thing about the son of a Death Eater, but really, Emma is loyal, and if Nott is trusting her with that kind of information then she will not share it. Not that he's actually said anything, it was more of a...a feeling she got from the conversation. Or maybe she's missing the point, and he was just saying his dad is the kind of man who thinks that if you're 17 and not with a girl then you must be into boys, and his dad would disapprove of that to the point of taking the Nott fortune away from Theodore. Yeah, it's probably that...or maybe she is his beard.

To her great bewilderment, and mild horror, Nott has started approaching her in public. He has claimed the seat next to her in Transfiguration, Potions, Muggle Studies and Herbology, and after the initial shock she finds herself almost wishing he'd sit next to her in Charms, too. He's a very good student. He doesn't chat during lessons, past the initial greetings, and takes very neat, concise notes. He masters most spells quickly, his strongest subjects being Charms, Transfiguration, Potions and Dark Arts. These so happen to be Emma's weakest subjects, and she quickly comes to realise that he had not been wrong when he'd suggested it may be good for them to work together towards their N.E.W.T.s. Her own stronger subjects are Herbology, Muggle Studies (not that this means anything anymore), and Care of Magical Creatures. Potions, now taken over by Horace Slughorn, has started to come a bit more naturally to her, though she regrets taking it up to N.E.W.T.s level.

Nott also takes Alchemy at the same time as she takes Ghoul Studies. All in all, they have Transfiguration, Charms, Muggle Studies, Potions, Dark Arts, and Herbology together.

"Thank you," she whispers begrudgingly as he helps her master yet another spell during Transfiguration class, about a fortnight after they have officially started 'dating'.

"You're welcome."

He smells nice, she realises, now that she's having to sit close to him so often. Some sort of clean, crisp aftershave or soap. With a start, she realises that it had been one of the smells she'd caught a whiff of when leaning over that cauldron of Amortentia back in sixth year. Not that that means anything, surely, other than that she's attracted to clean, sharp smells, which she kind of knew already.

He catches her trying to read off of his parchment and moves it slightly so she can catch up on McGonagall's instructions.

"Thank you," she grumbles again, offended by his thoughtfulness.

"You're welcome."

The lesson finishes, and Emma gathers her things slowly, annoyed to see that he's waiting patiently for her. Zabini and Parkinson throw them suspicious and irritated looks. Her own friends hang awkwardly around, unsure whether to walk with her or not. 

"Herbology, next?" He says.

"Yeah."

Herbology had always been one of her favourite subjects, but now even this she has to share with the stern Slytherin. At least he doesn't take Care of Magical Creatures...

They head towards the greenhouses, and get their stations ready. Neville Longbottom takes that class too, and he's watching the two of them carefully. Emma sighs in despair. What's the DA going to think of her now? She wishes she could explain herself. Nott, unsurprisingly, manages to get the space to her right. This is the only subject where she is clearly more skilled than he is, and for once, the roles are reversed: she supports him and guides him through the lessons.

"Common room, next," she says emphatically, at the end of the lesson, her voice loud to cover the rain battering the greenhouse.

"I'll walk you back," he says.

Emma almost groans. Can't he take a hint?

"Miss Kettleburn, can I have a word?"

Emma has never loved professor Sprout, head of Hufflepuff house, as much as she does in this very instant.

Nott leaves, and Emma is left alone with the Herbology professor.

"Professor?"

"Miss Kettleburn...Emma." The small, round lady sits herself on a stool, and gestures for Emma to copy her. She sets a pair of keen eyes on her student. "It has come to my attention," she begins carefully, "that you may have started a close friendship with Theodore Nott. Is this true?"

Emma nods, heart in her throat.

"And... Are you aware of Mr Nott's circumstances?"

"His circumstances?"

"His parentage."

Is she aware that his dad is a Death Eater. Emma nods. Professor Sprout stares at her like she's trying to crack open her head by the power of her thoughts.

"And this does not...bother you?"

"Um..."

"Given your own parentage? Most of your immediate family are non magical, are they not?"

"Theo's not his dad," Emma whispers pitifully.

Professor Sprout nods slowly.

"No, indeed. Forgive me for asking, Emma, but in six years teaching you and Mr Nott I have never once before seen you so much as look in his direction. I do not mean to intrude, and I do not mean to pretend I can dictate who you choose to befriend, and I certainly do not want to become in any way involved in teenage angst, but I simply wish to... To make sure that you are aware of your actions, and that you..." Professor Sprout takes a sharp breath, and goes for the kill: "I want to make sure that you have not been somehow forced into this relationship."

Emma blushes violently.

"I'm fine, professor."

"You are?"

"I'm fine."

Emma adverts her gaze.

"Well... If ever you wish for help, let me know."

"Thank you, professor."

Emma rushes out of the greenhouse and bumps into someone. For a painful, panicked second, she thinks it is Nott, but then she recognises Hannah Abbott, her blond hair stuck to her face by the rain. She holding a gold coin in her hand.

"The DA wants to meet," she says, "tonight, in the Room of Requirement."

 

*

 

Just short of midnight, Ernie, Zacharias, Hannah, Susan and Emma leave the comfort of their common room and make their way slowly and carefully through Hogwarts, in search of the Room of Requirement.

Upon entering, they find most of the people who had joined in fifth year, minus one or two.

"I think that's all of us," says Ginny Weasley, throwing back her long red hair. "Thanks all for coming. Neville, Luna and I have decided to carry on the DA. If you're here, that means you are going to help us, whatever the cost, otherwise you need to leave now."

No one moves, and Ginny continues:

"Good. So, today, we're going to discuss and agree on what our goals are going to be for this year." She looks at Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom, who nod at her. "So basically, this year, as you all know, we have been cursed with the worst teachers in the wizarding world. The despicable Carrows. Our main goal, as DA, will be to make their life hell. Agreed?"

There are many enthusiastic nods around the room.

"Our second main goal, as DA," says Ginny, "will be to continue learning about Defense Against the Dark Arts, the actual subject we're supposed to be studying. Neville has managed to salvage some of the DADA books from the library, before the Carrows took everything away. We'll be using those." She gestures towards a pile of old books. "We will aim to meet at least once a week, and those sessions will be divided between planning our offensive against the Carrows, Snape and their clique, and practising defensive spells. The time of the meetings will change every time and will be communicated to you on the day. Agreed? Good. Now, before we get started, there is one more thing we need to discuss."

"Her," says Seamus Finnigan.

Startled, Emma looks around, only to realise that she is the one everyone is now staring at.

"W-what?"

"You're Nott's girlfriend," says Lavender Brown.

"I'm not... Well, I am, but it's not like that."

"You're his girlfriend but it's not like you're his girlfriend?"

"He's sick. He tortures kids."

"What's wrong with you?"

Faced with the sudden onslaught, Emma loses her words.

"It's not like that," bravely says Hannah. "Emma's the one who went and got all our confiscated things back, your Pygmy Puff included, Ginny."

"Yeah it's cool and all, but it doesn't explain her dating a Death Eater!" Says Parvati Patil.

"Nott saw her," says Susan. "He saw her and didn't stop her, he helped her. When she got caught by the Carrows, they both lied and said they were together because they're boyfriend and girlfriend so no one would find out they were actually stealing all that stuff."

"Why would he do that?" Asks Ginny.

"To protect himself, probably," replies Hannah angrily. 

"Or he might actually fancy her. Who cares anyway? She's not into him, she's only doing this so she doesn't get caught." Adds Susan.

"She's taking one for the team, really," argues Ernie.

"Why would he have helped her in the first place, if she wasn't actually his girlfriend?" Lavender again.

"Who cares-!"

Emma doesn't want to tell them about Nott's dad harassing him about a girlfriend - she feels like that's a secret Nott has entrusted in her.

"Maybe," Ginny says in a strong voice, "maybe he does fancy her. Or maybe they have been secretly together for the past year. Or maybe, he planed this, all this, so he could get close to her, and by extension, close to us. Maybe he's using her to find out about us."

"I won't tell him anything," whispers Emma, already knowing where this is heading.

"No you won't. Sorry, Ems, but I think we're going to have to ask you to hand your coin in. At least until we know we can trust you."

"But you can trust me! And I want to learn real magic, you can't just kick me out!"

"Just hand it in." Ginny opens her hand, waiting. "I'm not saying you're lying and I'm not saying this is a permanent ban. But you being close to him is dangerous for the DA, and he probably knows this."

"Any of you could reveal things," argues Emma desperately. "Any of you could get tortured. Just because we're faking a relationship..."

"When we fake something long enough, it often becomes the truth," says Luna Lovegood in her dreamy voice. "Just look at all these poor Chameleon Ghouls, who can't change back to their original form."

"I could try and get information for you," cries Emma. "I could use him to find stuff out!"

"Do, if you can," replies Ginny, calmly. "But hand in the coin."

Humiliated, Emma places her DA coin in Ginny Weasley's open palm.

"Can I at least have a book to learn with?"

"One book," concedes Ginny. "And like I said, this isn't necessarily permanent. Just... We need to think about this."

 

*

 

Another two weeks pass, and Emma's mood goes from bad to worse. Hannah and Susan disappear late at night to meetings she isn't allowed to attend. Theo Nott persists on sitting next to her in most subjects, and members of the DA throw her either suspicious or openly disapproving looks wherever she goes. To make matters worse, some Slytherins have actually started being civil to her, which does not help restore her image to the other three houses.   
To top it all up, professor Slughorn accosts her one day at the end of Potions, a letter in his hand.

"Ah! Emma!" He waves his finger at her in playful disapproval. "You never said you were related to Silvanus Kettleburn, ex teacher of Care of Magical Creatures, and, of course, Bathsheba Kettleburn, the famous, internationally renowned Curse-Breaker? Yes, yes, I know Bathsheba... Well, I know of her, more exactly, but who doesn't? What an extraordinary witch! Gringotts are lucky to have her... She really understands goblins, does Bathsheba! Now, Bathsheba has been so kind as to write me a letter, otherwise I would never have known her granddaughter was one of my students! You must come to one of my little parties, Emma, you must. I am counting on you!"

Great, thinks Emma. Now even the head of Slytherin likes her. Trust her horrendous grandmother to put in a word for her and get her invited to sodding brunch.

Now positively furious, Emma stamps her way to the Muggle Studies classroom. She is two minutes late, but Alecto Carrow does not comment on it. Any other Hufflepuff student would have been skinned alive. She ignores the empty chair next to Nott and throws herself onto the seat next to Susan.

"What's this?" She barks at the piece of newspaper in front of her.

"Millicent Bulstrode is doing a presentation about crime in the muggle world," whispers Susan, eyeing her carefully. "You ok?"

"Fine."

Her bit of newspaper reads: "REVEALED: SERIAL PEDOPHILE RESPONSIBLE FOR MORE THAN 50 CHILD SEXUAL OFFENCES"

"Bones," calls Millicent, making Susan jump. "What does your article say?"

"It says: 'Body of missing 14 years old Olivia found decapitated in river Thames'."

"Mine says: 'early bird menu, two pizzas for the price of one'," whispers Neville Longbottom, making the back of the class chuckle. 

"Pansy," continues Millicent, unaware. "What does yours say?"

"It says 'father charged with murder of son, 5, and daughter, 7'," reads Pansy.

"Good, good," smiles professor Carrow, completely inappropriately. 

"When it comes to crime, the muggle male is known for his sexual depravity and bestial behaviour, yet another reason why we must strive to maintain purity of blood." Says Millicent, reading off of her parchment. "Muggles cannot resist their deviant sexual instincts, and it is extremely common that a father will wish to either mount or murder his own offspring. This is true for any kind of muggle settlement, but particularly for those places called 'estates'..." At this, Millicent holds up a picture of the very estate Emma has grown up in.

These declarations are met with shocked and indignant silence, though no one interrupts. Emma gapes at Millicent. Does she know? Does she know, the cow? Is this some kind of sick payback for her dating a Slytherin?

The lie is so flagrant, so outrageous, so downright offensive, so goddamn personal, that, for the first time ever, Emma cracks and breaks.

"That's just completely untrue."

Millicent Bulstrode blinks at her.

"What did you say?"

"I said, that's just completely untrue."

Alecto Carrow narrows her porcine eyes.

"Miss Kettleburn is offended," comments the professor with faked amiability. "Your father, miss Kettleburn, despite being a Squib, was raised by Wizards, and therefore he may have been taught some decency. Such is not the case for the overwhelming majority of muggle men..."

"That is a gross generalisation-"

"You cannot deny, though," says Millicent, "that all of these article are extracts from muggle newspapers. Two of the incidents we are reading about have in fact occurred in your own 'estate'..."

So, she knows. Emma boils over.

"Just because things like this are documented more in the muggle world doesn't mean that they're not happening in the wizarding world," replies Emma, barely registering Susan's elbow as it collides with her ribs. "There are what, two different newspapers around? And next to zero regulation as to what they can publish?"

"Shut up," whispers Susan.

"Sorry," Emma grits out. Even Neville is quiet.

"Blood purity," continues Millicent forcefully, "is the key to eradicating such nasty behaviours. Muggles have no self control and their legacy must be drowned out-"

"Bullshit."

"Detention, Kettleburn," sneers Alecto.

"Millicent, what you call blood purity is actually really called inbreeding, and it is forbidden in muggle society, because everyone knows that all that does is encourage bad genes to come up again and again, worse and worse each time-" she yells this whilst waving a hand at Millicent's form.

"Shut up!" Cries Millicent.

"No, you SHUT UP!" Roars Emma, past the point of no return. "You stand there, ignorant as fuck, talking bullshit-"

Alecto's angry sputters do little to hide the gasps echoing around her.

"OUT!" She screams, pointing her wand at Emma. 

Emma stands, hearing her chair fall behind her. Turning around, she sees that Vincent Crabbe has made his way towards her, as if to escort her out of the room, followed by Nott, who's got one hand on Crabbe's arm and his wand at the ready.

"What do you think you're doing, dickhead?" Barks Emma, shoving Crabbe with all her might.

Startled, he stumbles back a few steps and into a table, searching for his wand, and Emma all but runs out of the room.


	4. Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which even more ties are cut around Emma. Who's there to hold her hand?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)

Back in fifth year, Muggle Studies had been Emma's chance to shine. She was not particularly gifted as a witch, but her knowledge in that class was clearly higher than anyone else's.

Professor Burbage used to draw on Emma's experiences a lot to teach the class about muggle customs and culture. One day, as they discussed cooking without magic, Emma had innocently said that she preferred it to cooking with magic, because it felt almost cleansing to have a break from it.

"Magic is not dirty," had said an angry voice at the back.

It was Theodore Nott, and that was the only time he'd ever spoken to her.

"I'm not saying that," Emma had replied. "I just meant that sometimes it feels good to do things properly, and take the time, rather than jump to shortcuts."

"Magic does things properly," replied Nott, glaring at her.

"I know that-that's not what I meant!"

"You just don't know what you're talking about."

"Neither do you! You think muggles are inferior-"

Professor Burbage had stopped them there, and that had been the one and only exchange she had ever had with Theodore Nott, prior to entering his common room and kissing him on the cheek whilst under the influence of Felix Felicis.

*

"You will complete four weeks of detention, miss Kettleburn," says Snape.

"Yes, sir."

"Detention will consist of whatever professor Carrow deems suitable punishment."

"Yes, sir."

"You will apologise to Miss Bulstrode whom you have publicly insulted, and to Mr Crabbe, whom you have assaulted."

"Yes, sir."

"And should there be one more incident from you from now until the end of the year, you will be permanently expelled. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"You are fortunate to have friends such as Theodore Nott, miss Kettleburn. Professor Carrow holds his word in high esteem, and I believe your punishment will reflect this."

"Yes, sir."

"Leave."

 

*

 

Following the incident in Muggle Studies, Emma now has to complete a six foot long essay on the topic of "The Natural Bestiality of Muggles", which she is due to read out to the class at the end of her four weeks of detentions. She isn't tortured, however, which is probably what Snape was alluding to when he said that she was fortunate to have a friend in Theodore Nott. Half of her still thinks she might have dreamed everything, and that that swearing, aggressive girl having a go at Millicent and Crabbe was never actually her.

She doesn't get her DA coin back, but when she passes Neville and Ginny in the corridors, they give her an appreciative nod. Luna Lovegood beams at her.

Apologising to Millicent and Crabbe is painful, but Emma manages to grit it out. Nott stands near her as she does.

"It's just words," he whispers to her moments before, "just noise and breath. It means nothing, it's a means to an end."

To her surprise, this gives her the strenght she needs to go through with it.

When it's over, and Emma is walking to the library to work on her endless list of essays, Nott joins her silently. They walk side by side, him keeping up with her fast pace.

"That was where I live," she tells Nott out of nowhere. "That picture Millicent showed. It's where I'm from."

"She probably didn't know," he tells her after a short pause. Emma realises that this is the first time she's spoken to him in days. "Sit next to me," he abruptly adds. "In Muggle Studies. Carrow will forget about you, and you can always hit me whenever they say something that makes you angry."

Startled, Emma looks up at him. He's got a hint of a smirk at the corner of his thin lips, and returns her gaze.

"Thanks." It's not a blush that's creeping along her cheekbones. "But she definitely knew, she did it on purpose." Ever since she's convinced herself that he is gay, and therefore could not possibly be interested in her that way, it has been making it significantly easier to relax around Theodore, though his ideologies are still a great barrier to any kind of genuine friendship.

She avoids looking at him the rest of the way, and settles her bag on a table at the back of the library.

"Should we have a look at the Transfiguration essay?" He asks, sitting himself at her table. "Or do you want to do Charms first?"

Emma sighs, contemplating which of the two choices is the least unbearable, when two additional Slytherin students appear behind Nott.

The first one is a tall, blond girl called Daphne Greengrass and known as something of a stunner in their year. The other one has brown hair and blue eyes, a long nose, and Emma knows she's in her year, but has never bothered to learn her name. Something quite common... Is it... Something Davis? 

"Hi, Theo," says Daphne, setting a hand on the back of his chair. She throws a pointed look at Emma but doesn't really greet her. 

"Daphne. Tracey."

Tracey! Emma thinks with triumph. Tracey Davis, that's it. Not a very witchy name. Even Kettleburn sounds more authentic.

"You're still with her, then?"

Emma blinks. Pardon?

"As you can see."

"It's just that with what she's done to Vincent and Millicent..."

"Did you need anything, Daphne?"

Daphne withdraws her hand from Nott's chair and crosses her arms.

"Actually, yes, professor Snape wants to see you."

"Now?"

"Now."

Conflicted, Nott looks over at Emma who shakes her head.

"If you need to go, you need to go." He's hesitating, maybe wondering if the Greengrass girl hasn't made the whole thing up. Emma would quite like a break from him, though. "We've got Dark Arts this afternoon, right? I'll see you then."

It's probably for show, and it definitely doesn't mean a thing, but he stands and leans over and places a very quick, feather like little kiss at the side of her face before leaving with Daphne. Emma stares after them in a daze.

"Trace?"

Emma looks up to see that Tracey Davis is still there.

"I'll catch you up," replies Tracey.

The two girls look at each other awkwardly. Emma knows next to nothing about Tracey, apart from the fact that she's a Slytherin and hangs out with Parkinson and Greengrass. 

"You're half blood, right?" Asks Tracey.

"I guess so."

"Me too."

Emma's eyebrows shoot up.

"My dad is muggle born. All his side of the family are muggles." The Slytherin throws a look over her shoulder, then leans in to whisper: "I just wanted to say that I also think some of the stuff we learn in Muggle Studies is complete rubbish. My grand parents are a bit weirded out by magic, but they're not animals. They're very nice people, in fact. So, yeah. Just thought I'd let you know you're not the only one, and uh... Not all Slytherins believe what the Carrows say."

Tracey's lips twitch in what tries to be a smile, then she begins to move away.

"Tracey? You uh... You take Ghoul Studies, right?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want to work together on that project?"

"Sure."

"Cool."

In the great hall, Emma finally gets to spend some time away from any Slytherins and amongst her own house. Unfortunately, this does not turn out to be the respite she so desperately needs, because what she finds instead of welcoming friends is a bunch of very suspicious and resentful Hufflepuffs.

"Is that all Snape said?"

"You've got four weeks detention?"

"No Crucio?"

"You've literally just got to write an essay, after that massive scene?"

"I have to read it in front of everybody," tries Emma. "It's humiliating."

"Boohoo."

Emma is about to have a go at Susan for that comment, but Hannah unwittingly saves the day.

"Do you think they're together?"

"Who?" Asks Emma, turning her back on Susan and Ernie.

"Neville and Ginny."

Emma follows her friend's gaze over to the Gryffindor table, where Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley are engaged in conspiratorial whispers.

"No," says Emma. "She's Harry Potter's girlfriend."

"Harry's not here."

"Still, she seemed pretty crazy about him."

"Do you think he's with Luna, then?"

"I doubt it."

Luna Lovegood has never struck Emma as the kind of person who would engage in romantic relationships. She has always seemed too...distracted.

"They're probably all just hanging out together a lot this year, with all the DA stuff."

"No need to sound so bitter, Ems," says Susan. 

"Have you got something to tell me?"

"Ladies," interjects Ernie. "Let's not lose sight of who the real enemy is, shall we?"

"I'm not losing sight," says Susan, "I'm not the one who's cosying up to Slytherins in the library."

"Do I actually need to remind you that Nott and I-"

"I'm not talking about Nott. I'm talking about Tracey Davis. Padma heard you two having a nice chat in the library, all friendly..."

"We were saying that we're both half bloods," Emma retorts, "she was saying she agrees with me that Muggle Studies is a load of-"

"That's not what Padma heard. Padma says you two were talking about some project you're working on together, for Ghoul Studies." She lifts an eyebrow. "Well?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything! Padma even said that Nott kissed you, Ems! I mean, what's next, braiding Parkinson's hair?"

"It was a half second peck on the cheek to shut Daphne Greengrass up! And so what if I'm on alright terms with Tracey Davis? Not all Slytherins are complete arseholes."

"You'll never get back into the DA, at this rate." Huffs Susan.

"The reason why I'm in this sodding mess in the first place is because of your stupid magazines-"

"Ladies!" Ernie stops them forcefully. "Enough!"

"I'm going to Dark Arts," Emma declares, standing up. 

"I'm sure Nott's saved you a chair," calls Susan. "Or if not, you can always sit with your great friend Tracey Davis."

"Sod off, Susan."

"Or what? Are you going to muggle-fight me like you did Crabbe?"

"Do you want to find out?!"

"Merlin's tits, what is even going on? Just shut up, both of you!" Shouts Hannah. "I'm leaving. You're both pathetic."

Somewhat pacified, Emma makes her way to Amycus Carrow's classroom.

She sits next to Nott, and stiffly returns the little smile Tracey Davis gives her from the row in front of hers.

Four third year students are lined up at the front of the room, and Amycus Carrow 's pervy smile says it all. He first asks Neville to perform the Cruciatus curse on the younger kids, and when Neville refuses, Amycus whips his wand and a deep gash appears along Neville's cheek, making the whole class gasp in shock. Even Neville appears speechless. Amycus sends Neville to the hospital wing, and with their hero away and wounded, the rest of the class prepares to endure this lesson like one would get through a particularly vicious nightmare.

"Bones." Orders Carrow.

Shaking, Susan prepares to stand up, when Theodore Nott jumps to his feet next to Emma and walks to the front of the room.

"I'll do it, professor, or this will take all day."

He stands confidently in front of everyone, raises his wand.

"Crucio!"

The next hour goes in a blur. Everyone is almost hypnotised, staring at the horror in front, too cowardly to stop it. Emma watches Theo. There's nothing but focus on his face. When it's over, he lowers his arm, and turns to her. Their eyes meet from across the room, and there's something in his look, something like...victory? Or a question? It's hard to see through her tears and Emma blinks away, staring at her hands instead.

"He did it for her, I bet," whispers a voice behind her. It's Parkinson, talking to Zabini. "So her precious little blood traitor friend wouldn't have to do it. I'm sure that's why."

Theo walks back to their table and sits down. From the corner of her eyes, Emma can see the dark circles that have appeared under his eyes, and the light sheen of sweat at the top of his forehead. He's a bit out of breath. His fist, on the table, is shaking slightly. Emma's hand moves of its own accord and goes to rest against his, just a touch of a knuckle.

At that moment, that's the best she can do.


	5. Bathsheba's Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stroll to Hogsmeade, and a letter from a grandma.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory filler chapter, before sh** starts going down next chapter, where Emma finally meets the Evil Mr Nott in his House of Doom.
> 
> Thanks for reading :)

The Christmas holidays arrive, and most students desert Hogwarts. Emma has elected to stay behind, this year, not wanting to draw attention to her muggle home, and not really wanting to have to explain herself to her parents. They believe she is working all holidays on her mountain of homework, and have no idea she plans on spending actual Christmas Day with her fake boyfriend and his Death Eater dad. And anyway, old Bathsheba insisted Emma does not associate with her muggle family for the end of year celebrations and instead comes stay with her. By comparison, she expects the Nott do to be actual fun.

She hides in the emptied common room as much as possible, except at meal times when she finds herself having to sit with Nott, who's also staying behind.

"Can you apparate?" He asks her at breakfast. All in all, there are about six students left in school, a record low.

"No."

"I'll side apparate us, then. On 24th morning, is that alright?"

"Where will we apparate from?"

"Just outside the school grounds."

"How long will we stay at your dad's?"

"Till the 26th, is that alright?"

"Sure."

They return to deafening silence, Nott looking like he's struggling to find something to talk about.

"Sugar!" Yells Emma suddenly, forgetting not to look at him. "I haven't got any presents!"

He blinks.

"What?"

"For your family! For Christmas!"

"Presents? There's no...we don't really do presents. It's not that kind of party."

"It's Christmas, though." Emma insists. "I can't just show up empty handed. I'll have to go to Hogsmeade, oh my god, I can't believe I nearly forgot!" She points an accusing finger at him. "You should have reminded me."

Thankfully, Emma's request to professor McGonagall that a trip to Hogsmeade is organised for all students remaining behind during the holidays is granted, and all head off to the wizard village the very next day, under cold wind and the occasional sleet shower. Dementors offer an unwelcome escort.

For Theo's father, Emma buys some Firewhiskey, thinking it a safe choice. She also buys chocolates to share amongst his guests, and, after some intense deliberating, she decides to buy Theo a present too. This makes her realise that she knows very little about him, what he likes and dislikes, and she ends up buying him a woollen, emerald green scarf, a new quill and a book about advanced Charms. She's ruined, but quite pleased with her gifts.

Satisfied, she meets him at the entrance of the village and sees that he is clutching a brown paper bag in his hands, looking awkward and vaguely annoyed. 

"Is that for me?" She teases.

"Yes." He looks positively thunderous.

"Is it that bad?" She laughs.

"Well, I sure hope not."

"As long as it's not lingerie, I'm sure it'll be fine."

She's not sure what possessed her to say this, perhaps pure habit, after years of easy banter with Ernie. Theo Nott does a double take and stares at her, making her blush under his scrutinising eyes. Eventually, he gives a lopsided grin and says:

"Even if it's for me to wear?"

It's so unexpected and just plain hilarious, this ridiculous joke said in his aristocratic accent, that Emma bursts out laughing, throwing her head back. The Dementors bristle. 

"Ah, well, in that case," she says, "it better be Christmas themed."

"Well, you'll have to wait to find out, won't you?" He wriggles his eyebrows at her.

Emma bursts out laughing, but then other students throw them curious looks, making her calm down quickly. Theo returns to his shut down, taciturn self.

"Can I hold your hand? Please?" He asks suddenly, loud enough that surely a few pairs of ears will have heard. 

Finding no satisfactory reason to turn his request down, not when it is made so publicly, Emma grants it, and the two of them walk back to Hogwarts, looking very much like the couple they are pretending to be.

She's not sure why he wants to do this. Did she get him wrong? Is he actually, genuinely interested in her, and taking advantage of the situation? And what about that little peck in the library? All part of an act? She racks her brain, trying to remember at which point she had become convinced it was all pretend - had she been wrong? Or, are Slytherins that good at pretending?

"Why are you doing this?" She whispers to him. "Is it for those guys?" She nods towards the group of Slytherins in front.

He stares at her for a tad too long before breaking eye contact, his hand tightening slightly around hers.

"We want this to look real, don't we?" He whispers back. 

Emma nods. It must be an act. Even if he turns out not to be gay, which she still believes was what he'd been hinting at that first time they'd met in the library, she still would not be his type. He'd go after someone like Pansy Parkinson, or Daphne Greengrass. Someone from Slytherin, pure blood. Not her.

"What happens after Christmas?" She asks him. "You said you needed someone to introduce to your father over the holidays. What happens afterwards?"

"What do you wish to happen?" He's throwing quick looks around. making sure no one can hear them. "I believe it would be better for the both of us to carry this on, otherwise it may look suspicious. After your stunt, you may be on Carrow watch, so it's probably best you remain close to me."

"Yeah, you're probably right." She sighs. "Its just... Yeah, you're right."

"Is there someone else you'd like to be with?"

There is a definite bitterness to his voice, Emma is sure of it.

"Not at the moment, no. I mean, there's this boy but it's not like... No, there's nobody."

"Then it's settled."

His face looks like thunder and he doesn't speak to her again after that.

Emma returns to her dorm and begins packing for her stay at Nott's. She packs the presents, a book (you never know), a few clothes... Then realises she has no idea what she should wear. She tries on a few options then gets bored and grabs the letter her grandmother has sent her about a week before and that she still hasn't read. 

Bathsheba's letters so far have been...not entirely pleasant. Condescending, really. Emma remembers meeting the woman, very briefly, years ago, just after receiving her Hogwarts letter. Her dad had dragged her there, making clear that he himself had no desire to visit the old witch. And as for Bathsheba, she'd not asked a thing about Emma's siblings, or mother, and had just essentially appraised her with a cold eye then informed her that as sole descendant (Emma's father did not count),Emma would be inheriting everything when the time came. Since then, Bathsheba would send a few letters a year, and Emma would reply with a couple of greetings, news on the weather and a list of her most recent grades. Then when she'd had to go to the Ministry of Magic, the previous summer, to register herself and confirm her blood status, she'd seen Bathsheba then, and her interview had gone suspiciously well. She'd been marked half blood, not muggle born. She'd had to fib and say she was spending a lot more time with her magical relatives, and had to cringe out a smile and a nod when told to fully move on from her swine family. Upon exiting the building, Bathsheba had unwittingly spent a good 40 minutes reminding her why neither Emma nor her dad wanted to be around the old, patronising, judgemental witch.

But Emma hates trying on clothes, and she's annoyed at Theo, so she turns to the dreaded letter, vaguely hoping it will give her another reason to be angry. It does not disappoint.

Dear Emma,

I trust you have had a pleasant return to Hogwarts, and that you are entering your final year with the dignity and tenacity expected of a Kettleburn. Your Potions teacher, professor Horace Slughorn, has assured me that he will be keeping an eye on you throughout the year. It is important, now more than ever, for you to build significant relationships with influential wizards and witches. Friendships woven during school years often last a lifetime. 

This said, loyalty must not overcome intelligence, and one must also not lose sight of the changing nature of history. Some friendships are sometimes better left alone when the timing is no longer right. I have in the past greatly approved of your friendship with Miss Susan Bones, however, given the present circumstances, one had best distance themselves from anyone not complying with the government. I trust you to make the appropriate decisions.  
Speaking of relationships, I visited a dear friend the other weekend, Mrs Xanthippe Greengrass. Her granddaughters, Daphne and Astoria, are currently attending Hogwarts - perhaps you know them? Beautiful girls with impeccable manners. Xanthippe and I are old friends, and there is little she does not know about my life, and me about hers. I always greatly look forward to giving her the latest news about my dearest granddaughter and I. Imagine my surprise, however, when last weekend it was Xanthippe who had news for me regarding my own blood.

What is this I hear about a certain young man? And why am I the last person to be made aware of this?

I am told that you are seeing no other than Theodore Nott, descendant of the house of Nott, one of the so-called sacred 28 families. I am told that you are spending the celebrations there.

I would be offended, dearest, that you would neglect to inform me yourself, and neglect to alert me that you will not be attending my home, however as you have clearly taken my advice to associate yourself with prominent wizards and witches I can hardly blame you. I have met Theodore before, and he gave me the impression of a smart, studious and courteous boy. This said, when a war is raging, the best position is often the middle one, not one extreme or the other. By all means, see the boy, spend Christmas at his home, but do bear in mind that passions fleet, as do governments and ideologies.

This brings me onto some very important advice, dearest."

What followed was a long list of dos and don'ts amongst pure blood society. There was a rule about cutlery, one about who to greet first, one about how to cross her legs when sitting (you don't cross your legs - you cross your ankles). There was a whole paragraph about how to be around Mr Nott too, as future father in law (!?), as pure blood patriarch, and as a mean, controlling, prejudiced old man. 

There was a brown package accompanying the letter.

"Wear this, dearest, and do not even dream of wearing muggle clothing this holiday. Robes must be worn at all times, even to bed."

One look at Bathsheba's clothes had Emma groaning in disgust. She did not particularly like robes on a good day, but frilly, old fashioned things with lace everywhere? No way. 

She packs the less awful ones and leaves the most elaborate pieces behind.

*

"So, I hadn't realised, but there are like 20 different types of cutlery I am supposed to master by dinner time..."

"Just start on the outside and work your way towards the plates. Watch me, I'll show you."

The two of them are walking down the hill from Hogwarts, towards the places just outside the gates where they can apparate. Their suitcases follow dutifully behind. It's a cold, blue, wet morning.

"Where will I sleep?"

"You'll have your own room, near mine."

"Is your house very big?"

"It's a manor. And it's my father's, really."

Emma is overwhelmed with the need to ask where Theodore's mother is, but something stops her. What if she's dead? Or left them?

"Is it...just you and your dad?"

"Normally, yes. There will be many guests at Christmas dinner, though."

"Right." Emma chuckles. "As long as it's not Pansy Parkinson, or Millicent." When he goes quiet, Emma exclaims: "they will be there?!"

"It's...not impossible."

They reach the gates, and Nott disappears with the suitcases before popping back into existence in front of her. Her turn, now.

"Oh my god," whispers Emma, taking a deep breath.

"Are you scared?"

"I still can't apparate. Remember what happened to Susan? I still have nightmares about it."

"You'll be fine. Just don't let go of my arm, it'll be over in a second."

"Have you done this before? Side apparate someone, I mean?"

"Yes."

She takes his hand and he grabs onto her wrist, so her other hand goes and grips at his arms.

"Ready?"

She is pulled from her belly button into a whirlwind of colours and sounds, and all but collapses into his arms when her feet finally touch the ground again.

Emma steadies herself as fast as she can and takes a look around.

"Wow."

It's a manor alright. It's a ridiculously big, gothic, gloomy manor. It even has the hedges cut into animal shapes, like in the Shining. It is huge, with many, many dark windows.

"That's..."

They've apparated on what appears to be the drive up to the main doors, and there are gardens and a greenhouse the size of Emma's home, some sort of independent lodging against some woods, and house elves scuffling here and there tidying the wintered garden.

"Right."

"Welcome to Nott manor," says Theodore. He waves his wand at the suitcases, and the two of them set off towards the great grey walls.

"Can't wait."


	6. Nott Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Emma arrives at Nott manor, a charming, cosy home, and meets Mr Nott, the loveliest, kindest man to ever grace the wizarding world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading :)
> 
> Thank you to the lovely people who left kind words - it is extremely appreciated.
> 
> Trigger warning: Emma expresses some opinions on stay at home parents - she's young and loud, forgive her.
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

Theodore's father is...kind of worse than she'd expected.

Emma had pictured a judgemental, nasty old man. He is that, and so much more.

Before her arrival, she'd known next to nothing about him - just that he was quite old, very wealthy, patriarch of one of the sacred 28 pure blood wizard families, and a renowned death eater.

Mr Nott (he did not give her a first name) greeted them in some sort of drawing room, barely bothering to stand up. When he did, he let his eyes wander quite leisurely over Emma's form. He had glinty little beady eyes above a crooked nose, his skin as grey as his hair. His voice was raspy and irritating, his clothes expensive and tailored, but he did not have his son's impeccable poise. Theodore stood straight, shoulders back and chin up, and did not appear to do anything out of order to the point of coming off as stuck up and stiff. Mr Nott, by comparison, gave you the impression that his eyes were traveling up and down your form and into the creaks of your soul, and that his hands might follow at any time. He was rude and inappropriate.

"I'll say, it is a relief to see Theodore with a female, for a change, I was starting to think I'd fathered a ...then again you're half blood, but at least you're a girl." He sighed and grinned, revealing a line of sharp, yellow teeth. "Hufflepuff, hey?" He shook his head then walked past his son and slapped him on the arm. "At least it's a girl." He laughed to himself, gesturing for them to follow down the corridor.

"I have asked the elves to prepare the spare drawing room-"

"Yes, yes, I saw your letter," Mr Nott dismissed his son with an impatient wave of the hand. "What are you on about, son? It's your girlfriend, isn't it? Do you think I was born yesterday?"

Emma started to feel seriously alarmed, when it became clear that Mr Nott not only expected her to stay in Theodore's room, but also sleep in his bed, and that he encouraged them to take advantage of the time together.

"Nice change from the cold Hogwarts corridors, isn't it?" He winked at Emma. "Don't bore her with your doodles," he waved a hand at the rather intricate sketches spread across a large oak desk.

He left eventually, not after attempting to help Emma out of her coat - she squeaked, and Theodore intervened.

The door now closed behind his dad, Theodore turns to Emma.

"Christ," she breathes out, letting out a relieved chuckle.

"My father."

Emma nods and involuntarily looks to the lone bed in the middle of the room.

"That's- obviously, I didn't plan- there is absolutely-"

"I know. It's fine."

"I promise I- obviously, that is-"

"Yes, I know you'll be a gentleman." She laughs. "And if you're not, I will break your face."

"Fair enough." He smiles back. "Would you like to visit the rest of the place?"

They walk along the endless corridors and into some rooms. Emma pauses by what looks like a huge family portrait, picturing a slightly younger version of Mr Nott, a small boy with sharp cheekbones and dark eyes and hair, and...his sister? Surely not his...his...

"That's my mother."

Emma's eyebrows shoot up of their own accord. 

Mrs Nott is a lot younger than her husband. She appears to be in her early twenties, at most. Emma's mind plunges into feverish calculations. If she's in early twenties in that portrait, when Theo looks to be about 5 or 6, that means she would have been giving birth at...at...   
Emma doesn't know what to say, she's sure Theo can sense her thoughts.

"You... Look a lot like her." Emma babbles, and it's true. "The eyes and the cheekbones, the nose... She's very pretty."

"Do you think so?"

"Definitely."

"My father has always liked pretty, younger women."

There's definite bite and bitterness to Theo's tone, and Emma feels a rush of protectiveness.

"You look nothing like your dad. Physically, or...yeah."

"Do you think so?" 

He's asked this a lot more quietly this time.

"Is your mum...?"

"She's passed away."

Theo makes to keep moving, ending the conversation, and Emma is left guessing as to how a woman this young and healthy looking dies suddenly, leaving a little boy behind. The Mrs Nott in the painting seems very enamoured with her son, although, there is every now and then a furtive glance at her husband and a frost in her smile. Emma suddenly feels very unsafe, in this dark, gloomy castle, locked in with a sadistic old man.

Why did she agree to come?

She's muggle born, really. What is she doing in this den of horrors, with all the death eaters around?

Is Theo Nott even trustworthy?

Are they going to make her a child bride? Are they going to sacrifice her to You-Know-Who? 

Eat her entrails for dinner?

"Are you alright?"

"YesofcourseI'mfine."

They visit a daunting office, an impressive library to rival Hogwarts's, then a square room the walls completely hidden behind glass cupboards full of all sorts of potions, from simple cough remedy to very, very complex and probably illegal potions.

"My father likes potion making."

It's much nicer out in the gardens, and, at one point, a ray of sunshine pierces through the trees and shines a benevolent light over the manor, making it look significantly less gloomy. Perhaps the place looks more inviting in summer? They walk up a green hill, overlooking the grounds. 

"What's that place?"

Emma is pointing at another, tall looking manor a few miles away. It had been hidden by the hills before.

"That's Malfoy manor."

"Really?" Emma blurts out. "You're neighbours with Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes. Their land starts at that stream, down there."

"For real?"

She tries to picture a younger version of Draco Malfoy, playing with a younger version of Theodore Nott. Did they ever play in the stream, building dens and catching bugs? Or do children born in wizarding families only ever play with magic?

"So did you use to play together?"

"We tolerated each other at gatherings," Theodore replies, as they walk slowly back towards Nott manor. "I used to think him rather spoiled, what with his...you know, mother."

"And now? I'm sure I've seen you two together at Hogwarts."

"He's been improving with age," Nott shrugs. "But we are quite different. He doesn't mind being visible, I'm more..."

"Quiet?"

"I suppose."

"Where is Draco Malfoy now? He hasn't been back at school, and I'd have thought he'd have been thriving this year..."

"I believe he's got a lot to keep him busy at present."

"Is he a death eater?" Whispers Emma, after a short hesitation and a check above her shoulder.

"Would you really want to know?"

That means yes. Emma really, really wants to ask if Nott himself is a death eater too, and she plays with the idea of voicing her question aloud when she notices him throwing her a somewhat expectant and challenging look. Blushing, she looks away and changes topic.

The first evening, Theo and her end up dining alone, thank Merlin, or whatever it is pure blood people say. They sit at each end of a very long table made of dark wood. The food is brought by house elves.

"Have you always had house elves?"

"As far as I can remember."

"And they do everything around the house?"

"Yes."

"Do you not...erm..."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

"No, no, please tell me."

"Do you not, like... Feel bad?"

He's perplexed.

"Feel bad??"

"Yeah, you know, because they're- they're your slaves, basically."

"They're house elves."

Emma nods, plays with her food a minute. She knows this is the kind of situation where she should hold her tongue.

"They're living, sentient beings, powerful beings, with personalities and families..." She gauges his reaction, but Nott is just sitting there, looking at her. "It just seems a bit... Wrong, you know, to use them. Like, someone more powerful could come along and just enslave you, just because they can." Nott says nothing for a while, and Emma grows nervous. "It's probably because I'm not used to it. Sorry."

"No, no, it's quite alright. Perhaps it is me who is too used to it."

He breaks the awkward silence that follows with some chat of Hogwarts, an olive branch she gratefully clings onto. The conversation then turns to annoying relatives, and Emma completely forgets her caution and just starts babbling on about her annoying aunt Lydia.

"...she's just so annoying, you know. My mum gets really angry because Lydia - who's a housewife - always goes on about how keeping a house tidy and cooking and all that is a full time job, and my mum - who actually has a full time job - finds that just ridiculous. She does the housework as well as her job, you know? So for Lydia to call being a housewife a full time job is offensive to people with actual full time jobs, don't you think?"

"Absolutely."

"Oh and she's so annoying! She's so obsessed with her weight, like you can't just have a piece of toast with her, she just has to say 'oh I'm being awful, aren't I'..."

"Which is offensive to people who are actually awful," nods Theo.

Emma catches his eye and sees the twinkle there. Her laughter escapes her before she can hold it in. A blush creeps up out of nowhere.

Despite the somewhat relaxed atmosphere over dinner time, going to bed is about as awkward as Emma had anticipated. Showered, dressed in her pyjamas, she hangs around his room looking at his belongings. She is vaguely aware that Nott is moving near his bed, and a quick glance over her shoulder tells her that he is arranging pillows so that they form some sort of wall going down the middle of the bed. Thoughtful.

He's wearing exactly the kind of pyjamas she'd expect an upper class man to wear: Classic British cut, made of luxurious cotton, perfectly ironed. She's just glad she's packed pyjama leggings and a wide top instead of her usual shorts and strappy top, even though she keeps having to pull the back of her t-shirt over her bum. Not that he'd care, she tells herself, he's into guys.

Once he's finished building his modesty wall, Theo sits on the edge of his bed, unsure how to proceed next. Emma stops by his desk and takes a closer look at the intricate doodles laid there.

"What's this?" She asks, turning to show him a sketch of some sort of device with circles and what looks like a sand timer in the centre. "You've drawn it a lot. You're very good at drawing, by the way."

"It's a time turner. Have you never heard of them before?" He seems genuinely impressed at that. "It turns time, to go back into the past."

"And change it?"

"Potentially, yes."

"Wow."

"You turn the circles," explains Theo as he approaches her to peer down at his sketch. "To turn one hour back at a time. I'm pretty sure you could enchant it enough to go further back in time, even if it meant only staying a short while, before some sort of charm brought you back to the present. I also think I- someone - could invent a time turner that lets you return to the past and stay there." As he speaks, he pulls out different drawings as well as quotes and spells, some complicated calculations, many crossed out.

"Are you trying to make one of these things?"

"Not yet, I am just... Theorising."

"Theorising Theo," chuckles Emma. "Sorry, is it Theodore? Or Nott?"

"Theo's fine."

She nods to herself, and the silence stretches on. 

"Right, well," says she, choosing to address the elephant in the room. "I just can't think of any other way to delay bedtime, so... Is that my side?"

"Whichever you prefer, hum, I made a... A limit with the pillows, um... Obviously, like I said, it's not... I mean, I won't, and I know you won't, we can just... I'll just face that way and you face whatever way you want..."

"Thank you. But I should probably be honest with you. I tend to take all the covers."

He lets out a nervous little laugh which she reciprocates. They get in bed, each facing the other way, shuffled as far away from the other as possible. It takes a while, but, eventually, Theo's breathing slows and deepens as he drifts into sleep. Emma remains awake. An hour passes, then another.

She needs a wee.

Maybe if she just shuts her eyes, think of something else...

No, nothing will do. She needs a wee. She's going to have to go. Where was the nearest loo again? 

She slides out of bed and makes her way towards the dark door, then into the dark corridor, in search for the dark toilet. She makes about three steps into the corridor when she sees it.

It's standing right there, just a little further down the corridor, it's tall, thin, and it's facing her way. 

Is it moving her way, it's moving her way!

Emma's spine freezes and her legs tingle then shake and start moving of their own accord, in slow motion, as she turns around and scrambles back into Theo's room, stumbling towards the bed, climbing on it and crawling to Theo. She shakes his shoulders, anxiously watching the door she's half shut on her way in.

"Theo! Theo!" She whisper-shouts at him.

"Wha-?"

"There's a ghost, there's a ghost in the corridor!"

"A ghost?"

"Yes! Oh god, what do we do?"

"Well, we just... Which one is it?"

"Which-what? What do you mean which one is it?"

"Is it the professor, the kid, or the fat lady?"

"You've got three ghosts??"

"Yes?"

He seems remarkably calm about the whole thing.

"Wha- how- what are you- you never said anything about ghosts!" Emma is shaking and her eyes are filling up with tears, she feels like hitting him. "Why wouldn't you warn me?!"

"I didn't think I needed to, there's plenty of ghosts in Hogwarts, I thought you'd be fine with it!"

"The ones at Hogwarts aren't scary, and it's one thing to see them in broad daylight, not in the dark in some dark manor at night!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't think... Are you okay?"

Emma's incredulous laughing has half turned into relieved sobs, and she tries to control her breathing.

"Yes, yes, sorry, I know about ghosts, I just... I absolutely was not expecting it. It scared me."

"Which one was it?"

"Not one you said, I think it was a young woman, tall and slim. It just... Stood there. Oh god, I really need a wee."

"Do you...want me to walk with you?"

"Is that Ok?"

"Of course."

"And then can you wait for me?"

"Of course."

He gets up, and Emma holds onto his arm and follows him down the corridor. He uses his wand to light up the way. The ghost has obviously gone. Emma takes his wand with her into the toilets, and then grabs his arm again to walk back to his room. She'll have to be embarrassed about all this tomorrow, for now she's just glad he's here. Funny, she thinks, how she's never before thought of him as a protective factor. The opposite, if anything, and now look at her: cowering behind him, counting on him to defend her against the shadows.

They get back to bed and she shuffles a lot closer to him. It takes her another couple of hours to fall asleep, but eventually, she blinks, and it's Christmas morning.


	7. Christmas dinner at the manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lovely and warm and trusting family dinner we were all looking forward to. Guest starring Astoria G.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so, so much for reading and especially for leaving kind words about the story :) 
> 
> As a bit of warning: I won't update now until September, but the story is not abandoned ;) I have the next two chapters drafted, but am tempted to take this story down a darker path to what I had originally planned out....hmm.

On Christmas morning, Emma apologises endlessly to Nott for making him walk her to the toilet and wait outside the door while she did her business. He very gracefully says that it was no trouble, and asks if she had ever seen a ghost before coming to Hogwarts. He seems shocked that muggles consider them a myth. Before they get up and dressed, they exchange gifts.

"Thank you," he says politely, looking at the green scarf. "And a quill, thank you so much." He opens his last present, the book on advanced Charms. "And...oh, wow, thank you very much!" He's actually rather enthusiastic about the book, turning it in his hands and flipping through it. Emma has unknowingly selected a book which covers the magic of time travel, and she could kiss herself.

His present to her, he's clearly quite anxious about.

"So,let's see the lingerie," she jokes, and he grimaces.

"You can return it if you want. You really don't have to keep it. It's probably quite boring..."

Emma unwraps what turns out to be a book.

The Comprehensive Encyclopedia of Magical Plants and Algae, Their Use, Care and Personalities. 

"Professor Sprout told us about it once and I saw you writing the title down- it's not the most exciting, sorry."

"It's brilliant, thanks, but you shouldn't have, it's an expensive book!" She examines the Encyclopedia, its probably the best book she owns, and the most expensive thing, along with that posh fountain pen her mum got her. She'd planned on buying it durin the sales, provided she managed to save enough money by then, and had considered asking Susan or Ernie for a loan, should that fail.

"It was no trouble. I also got some of the seeds mentioned in the book...but honestly, it's not much." 

And sure enough, little packs of seeds fall out. Mandragora, wormseed, bloodroot... All the pricier stuff.

"Well, maybe not to you, Lord of the manor..."

She realises it probably sounds a bit spiteful, and opts for a one armed hug to thank him properly. The ambiguity of the picture, them sitting on his bed in each other's arms, comes up to mind and she hastily moves away and gets up.

Mr Nott joins them for breakfast and scoffs at the Firewhiskey she got him.

"Well, I certainly did not get you anything," he rasps.

"You didn't need to, you're letting me stay here-"

"Exactly." His eyes narrow in on hers. "First time in a pure blood home, is it?"

Emma nearly mentions Susan's home, but remembers that the Bones are considered blood traitors by people like Mr Nott. 

"Yes."

"First time with pure blood, huh..." Mr Nott's eyes twinkle as he exchanges a look with his son. Emma's blood feels like it's starting to boil and freeze at the same time. Oh, but she does hate this rude, perverted, pompous old shit.

Mr Nott retires to his alchemy lab, and house elves begin appearing out of every corner of the house, snapping their fingers and setting the scene for a Christmas dinner. Soon enough, delicious food smells begin to permeate the air, and the manor takes on a more welcoming, homely feel. Theo and Emma walk awkwardly around his library, looking for something to talk about. Eventually, Emma questions him about his toilets: they're like muggles's toilets, does he know that? Theo explains that prior to the muggles inventing plumbing, wizards and witches used to defecate on the spot and then vanish the evidence. She doesnt believe him. They spend a couple of hours looking in various books for the spell, then practise it on bird droppings outside, until guests begin to arrive.

Theo and Emma go back to his room to change into their formal wear. 

"Is this ok?"

She's wearing some sort of tight-ish, collared robes, long sleeves and down to the floor, that vaguely remind her of what conservative Victorian spinsters might wear, only slightly less formal due to the dark blue colour and the neckline which comes down to just below her collarbones.

"I believe so," Nott says, "did your grandmother send you this?"

"Does it look like something a grandmother might wear?" Laughs Emma.

"No, no, it's age appropriate, actually. I've just never seen you in witch robes, apart from school ones." He awkwardly makes some sort of vague wave at her outfit. "It suits you."

"I feel so ridiculous," she confides. "But old Bathsheba said strictly no muggle wear, so..."

"You wore a muggle dress at the Yule Ball, I remember," says Nott, before adding in an even quieter voice: "it suited you, too."

"Well, you're looking very dapper yourself, I must say."

And it's true. His clothes are dark, unsurprisingly, impeccably tailored, and just reinforce his height and good looks. His dark hair is sleek back, not one strand out of place.

"Do I leave my hair like this, or do I need to do some sort of complicated plait thing?"

"You look lovely."

Emma's hair is up in the usual messy bun (her face looks weird if she does anything else to her tresses) but she knows witches tend to do all sorts of crazy things with their hair, at parties.

Guests begin to arrive, most of them completely unknown to Emma. Nott whispers their names to her and introduces her as his girlfriend. With a start, Emma realises all these people are members of the sacred 28. With a horrified gasp, she realises some of these people are dreaded bullies from Slytherins. With absolute horror, she sees the Carrows arrive later on.

Marcus Flint has come with his dad and a stern, sharp woman, probably his mum. Daphne Greengrass, her parents and a younger sister who also attends Hogwarts follow shortly. Pansy Parkinson is there. Crabbe and Goyle. A terrifying man introduces himself as Selwyn to Emma and promptly begins to question her about Luna Lovegood, of all people. Does she know her well. Does she read her dad's newspaper. Where is Luna at Christmas.

Emma is happy she can honestly say she has no idea, probably at home, Luna and her have never been very close, she's only read that newspaper once back in second year.

Selwyn abandons her as soon as it becomes evident she has nothing of value to say to him.

Age doesn't seem to matter much, and everyone, Daphne's younger sister included, are encouraged to have drinks of champagne as they chat before joining the table.  
Emma, Theo, Marcus, Pansy, Daphne, her sister Astoria, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle all stand together in a corner, drinking and ignoring each other.

"So, you're in Hufflepuff, right?" Asks Astoria suddenly.

She looks like her sister around the eyes, but her hair is a rich chocolate brown, she has dimples in her cheeks when she smiles and is of a slighter build.

"I am, yes. Are you in Slytherin too? Astoria, isn't it?"

"Yes, I'm in fifth year. Is it true you come from a muggle family?"

"I suppose so, yes, my mum is a muggle and my dad is a squib, I think it's called."

"And you're Bathsheba Kettleburn's granddaughter," Astoria nods enthusiastically. "She's an amazing witch."

"Why are you allowed into Hogwarts if you're a mudblood?" Vincent asks suddenly, interrupting the friendly Astoria.

There's a short silence, everyone looking down at their drinks and Theo glaring at Crabbe, then, just as Nott opens his mouth, Astoria pipes up again.

"She's not a mudblood, Vincent, she's a Kettleburn, she's Bathsheba Kettleburn's granddaughter. The Bathsheba Kettleburn, the internationally renowned Curse-Breaker, the one who works for Gringotts and does ministry work just because they keep begging her. Who's your grandmother?"

"Astoria!" Whispers Daphne, looking way too pleased for her chastising tone to be taken seriously.

"And what if she was a mudblood?" Continues Astoria. "What would be so wrong with that? She's obviously nice and smart if Theodore likes her-"

"Astoria!"

This time, Daphne looks genuinely alarmed at her sister's words, throwing an anxious look around.

"Yeah, well, if Bathsheba's so great, how come she's given birth to a filthy squib?" Vincent angrily argues back, his cheeks bright red.

Astoria gasps in outrage at her hero being insulted, and even Emma, who doesn't hold much love for her grandmother, cannot help feeling anger on behalf of her dad. 

"You can't always help that," a huge, fat, silver ghost has appeared next to them. 

"Sometimes, all it takes is for a witch to be abused by a muggle centuries back for it to resurface in present day generations..."

"You're in my house - sorry to interrupt, professor - and you are about to eat food I provide you with, don't you dare be so incredibly rude to my girlfriend. I want her here much more than I want you here." Theo grits out.

"I was just asking-"

"Next time I see my grandma, I'll pass your question on." Emma says, making Daphne and Astoria chuckle. Even Marcus Flint seems amused by that idea. Vincent and Gregory brood for the rest of the afternoon, whispering to each other in a corner.

Dinner is interesting. The different families chat over the food, occasionally snapping at house elves. Mr Nott presides over the table.

"So, miss Kettleburn," Mr Flint asks suddenly, quieting the whole table. "How long have you known our Theo?"

"Since 1st year, I suppose, although we hadn't really started talking until last year." She's remembered that they're meant to have been dating for a year.

"And you enjoy his company, I presume?"

"Yes," Emma has the good sense to let out a little blushing chuckle. "Very much so."

Mr Flint smiles without any joy in it.

"And you are Bathsheba Kettleburn's granddaughter, right?" Mr Nott interrupts. "How does old Bathsheba feel about you being in Hufflepuff?"

Emma wants to say that Bathsheba is fine with it, but something makes her go with the truth.

"To be honest, she'd have preferred me to be in Ravenclaw, but she's just glad I'm a witch," Emma replies, making a few people laugh and shifting the attention away from herself as the adults begin talking about the different houses and their own days of fierce rivalry at Hogwarts. Emma is left to ponder over her own unintended honesty.

"So, Emma," Pansy suddenly says, some time during the sherry break prior to dessert. "Have you always fancied Theo?"

Emma wants to say yes, she really, really does.

"No, actually, I hardly noticed him before."

Everyone around looks up at this, a couple of men chuckling and nudging Theo with their elbow. Emma is horrified.

"So what changed, then, darling?" Asks Mrs Greengrass. 

"I'm getting to know him more," Emma blurts out. "I thought he was just violent and prejudiced, before, but now I know he can be funny and thoughtful too."

"And handsome?" Smiles Mrs Greengrass.

"Handsome too, yes, hadn't really noticed until now," the truth just runs out of Emma's mouth. She shoves a huge mouthful of potato in her mouth to stop herself from talking any more. She chews and chews, her cheeks red, not daring to look at Theo. The conversation moves away from her for a moment, and Emma grabs his hand under the table.

"I can't stop talking," she whispers to him.

"What do you mean?" 

"I didn't mean to say all that stuff, it just came out, it's like I can't control it."

She risks a glance up and sees him scowling, though not quite at her. His eyes slowly drift towards his father, at the end of the table. 

"Right." Says Theo. He grabs her glass and takes her hand, pulling her up. "Don't drink it if you're not keen. Come on, I'll show you what else we have, in the kitchen." He says loud enough for others to hear.

Once they get there, Theo empties her glass in the sink and turns to her, peering into her eyes. 

"I think you've been given veritaserum," he says angrily. "Probably my father."

"What? But Theo I can't- that means I can't lie about anything!"

"Then don't," he says, "and don't panic. Just avoid conversations, and if you have to answer a question, answer some truth."

"Some truth?"

"It's not about the truth, it's about what's true to you, see? Answer with something that's true. Believe what you say and you'll be telling the truth." He shakes his head. "Give ambiguous truths. If they ask if we really came here to get you a new drink, say we wanted a private chat, and leave it at that. It's the truth. I'll help you."

They return to platefuls of dessert, including the chocolates Emma had brought.

"So, love," says Mr Nott, stopping all conversations again. "What do you think of Nott manor?"

Say a truth, Emma, say a truth.

"It's very big."

"Do you like it?"

This one is tricky. Emma resists the urge to say no, and gives another truth. Mr Nott is smirking, like he knows exactly what she's going through.

"It's very well furnished. And, I think I'd like it a lot more in spring and summer."

Mr Nott nods, nibbling noisily on some nuts. 

"Do you love my son, miss Kettleburn?"

A few guests laugh out loud, playfully berating Mr Nott for his question.

"Let her answer me."

The laughter dies down.

"I am very embarrassed by the question," Emma says. "And I'd rather not reply, it's... Between Theo and I."

"Yes, Nott, leave the girl alone!" 

"Who would answer that in front of a room full of strangers?"

"Theodore wouldn't want her to say it in front of his friends-"

"You'll scare her off-"

"I am only asking," Mr Nott raises his voice, "because I know first hand what it is like to have young, pretty women notice you, once you are old enough to come into your family fortune. She may be the descendant of an illustrious witch, but she is of muggle parentage, and an alliance with my son would be highly advantageous to her." He's really killed the mood, now, everyone looking at their plates. Emma catches Mrs Greengrass' eye, and the witch gives her a tight little smile. "Theodore is my only child, it is natural for me to look after his interest, and that of my ancestors' fortune."

"Father-"

"Yeah," says Pansy Parkinson suddenly. "Say the truth, are you with him for his money?"  
The truth spills out from Emma's mouth, unchecked, because she knows she has nothing to hide in that department.

"No, Pansy, Mr Nott, that is not why I am with Theo."

"So the fact that he's to inherit a fortune didnt influence your sudden interest in him, did it?"

"Pansy, for crying out loud-!"

"No, it didn't, I'm not after anyone's fortune. Besides, if I was, I'd just have to wait for my own grandmother to pass away - I am her sole heir, after all."

A few guests take this as their clue to return to their cheerful selves, laughing at her 'joke' in exaggeratedly good spirit and commenting emphatically on the perils of offering wine to youngsters.

"What about you, Theo?" Pansy doesn't let it go, through this time the rest of the guests are occupied enough that only their little group of youngsters can hear her. "How come you suddenly started liking her?"

"It wasn't sudden," Theo says a bit quickly. "I've liked her since third year." He appears a bit taken aback by his own statement, and looks down at his drink. Oh. Would Mr Nott spike his own son's drink?

Pansy is surprised, so are the other Slytherins, gaping at Theo.

"Even though she's half blood? And in Hufflepuff?" Flint asks.

"I don't like that I like her," Theo responds truthfully. "And I would never have done anything about it, if-if I hadn't come across the perfect opportunity to make her my girlfriend." 

He eats his piece of cake quickly.

"Are you being serious?" Pansy asks.

"Yes. I just wish she liked me more."

Theo manages to exchange a loved up, though somewhat panicked, look with Emma, the two of them silently praying for the night to end. Pansy looks dejected.

Thankfully the dinner is eaten up, and people begin to leave. Pansy attempts to drag the two of them into another conversation-interrogation (even downright asking Emma if she's used a love potion on Theo, to which Emma easily says no), but Theo skilfully dodges all her attempts and eventually manages to coax her out of the door whilst declaring that he and Emma are going to bed.

When they reach his bedroom door, Emma turns to him.

"My gosh, can't believe someone actually did that, it must have been Pansy, don't you think? I think we did OK in the end, your answers were great, totally ambiguous, anyone could have thought you meant like as in like-like, not just- do you reckon it was Pansy?"

"That, or she worked out what happened and took her chance," he holds the door open for her but doesn't follow her across the threshold. "Pansy is a lot more intelligent than people give her credit for. She makes for a brilliant ally." He's edging away as he talks.

"What are you doing?"

"Avoiding a conversation with you whilst on truth serum," he replies automatically. "Instead of going to bed I will question the house elves and find out who spiked our drinks. I'll be back once the potion has worn off." He cringes. "Good night, Emma."

It doesn't take long for Emma to fall asleep, and she dips into a dreamless slumber until something, a feeling, or a tingle on her skin, wakes her up.

It's pitch black, and dead silent, no noise coming from downstairs. Theo's breathing is calm and quiet next to her, in the dark. It changes slightly and she knows he's awake, too.

"Theo?"

"Yes?"

"Do you feel that?"

It's silent and still, but suddenly, a ghostly snarl tears the air, but it's like it wasn't a noise and more of an echo in their heads, or a disturbance, something. Emma jumps out of bed.

"What was that?!"

"Emma!"

Emma bumps noisily into the bedside table, feeling for her wand.

"Shh," Theo is next to her and grabs her wrist, stilling her. 

"What was that?"

"It's You-Know-Who, be quiet."

"What??"

"I'll show you, but you can't make a noise."

They creep up to the window, and peer outside, Theo has a hand around Emma's forearm. 

Squinting into the darkness, Emma sees the hills, and beyond, the top of Malfoy manor. A greenish, supernatural light shines from one of the upstairs windows. The light shakes, then crosses the window and whooshes into the sky, across the hills, across some woods, until it disappears into the night, and the air becomes still and calm again.

"Wha-?"

"I think he's staying there, at Draco's... You-Know-Who. My father goes there all the time, and the Malfoys never come out. Sometimes he gets angry, or happy maybe, and this happens."

"That-that light... It was You-Know-Who??"

"I think so. I-I think he can fly."

They're quiet for a while.

"Why did you bring me here?" Emma whispers. "Why did you?"

"...sometimes it's best to hide in plain sight."

"What does that even-"

"You're safer here with me than wherever he's gone off to, are you not?" He's suddenly annoyed. "He's obviously going after something, or someone, aren't you glad you're with me rather than with whoever he's after?"

"Who is he after? Harry Potter?"

"Yes, probably, or his acolytes, that Granger girl, or maybe even that Longbottom everyone seems to think is so, so brave..."

"He's after Neville??" Emma looks around for a wand again. "And Ginny and Luna and - I have to warn them-"

"No!"

He's actually raised his voice, grabbing her by the arms again, this time more tightly.

"No, you can't." He's staring into her eyes. "You can't." He shakes his head. "You'd be killed."

Emma scowls at him, but she knows he's right.

"Let's just... Get back to bed, OK? I'm sure it's not Longbottom he's after. Ok?"

Emma nods reluctantly, then slaps his arms out of the way, which he allows. The heat from his hands had started to spread to her skin, and she doesn't look at him again.

They get in bed. Neither of them sleeps again.


End file.
